


Harry Potter and the Journey of Gender

by Tael



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Genderbending, Non-Binary Harry Potter, Other, mentor!Severus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23637871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tael/pseuds/Tael
Summary: After being kidnapped by Voldemort, Harry comes back to Hogwarts as Isobella Gaunt, Tom's daughter. Dumbledore doesn't seem to believe him, he is not allowed to tell his friends the truth, Draco, his, or her, new prefect, wants to become her friend, and to top it all, he, or she, can hear what anyone thinks. What a nightmare.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. Prologue

Harry was afraid. That is the least he could say at the moment. He had lost track of the time but guessed he had been there for at least one month. Maybe more. It didn't feel like less than a month to him. If it had indeed been less than a month, these were the longest weeks of his life. Well, maybe not the longest ones, but still quite long. Some weeks at the Dursleys' had been really long after all.

He knew he had been kidnapped early October. It was the first day that yeard they went to Hogsmeade. He was with Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, but Ginny had drifted away to spend the day with her own friends. He was glad she did so before the Death Eaters had come. That was one person less to worry about, as he wasn't sure what had happened to Hermione and Ron. They were all facing Death Eaters in a small street when someone had grabbed him from behind. Next thing he knew, he'd disapparated, and then apparated in a new place. Before he could defend himself, he'd been disarmed by someone he hadn't had time to see. Apart from this, he couldn't say he'd been badly treated: he had had food, and a comfortable enough bed in a big enough bedroom. No, really, he didn't have much to complain about, if it wasn't for the fact he was kidnapped by Voldemort and did not know what had happened to his friends or what exactly was awaiting him.

For a month - or what he believed had been a month, - he had lived in a bedroom with a few very boring books at first glance, nothing to play with, and no contact with the outside. Not even a window to watch the sky through. Nothing to track time with. There was light during the day, or so he hoped, and the light progressively turned to dark when night was supposed to happen. If he had known it would last this long, he might have tried to count the days, but when he realised it was going to last more than a few days, it was too late. He was already unsure of how many days had passed. And then he just lost track. He resorted to reading the books. They were as boring as he had thought; but when it is the only distraction from one's thoughts... At least, he thought at some point, when he'd go back to Hogwarts, he would be able to surprise some teacher with his new knowledge. Maybe he would even get better in potions! What boredom could do to a man.

About a week before, Voldemort had done him the honour of coming to see him. He had even invited Harry to walk about out of his room. Then he had told him all about the Death Eaters, the names, the oldest ones, the more recent ones, their motivation, why they were Death Eaters, what position they held. Harry did not remember everything. He remembered some names, some faces, that was well enough. After all, what use could he make of all this intelligence if he never got out of there? He didn't even know why Voldemort had shared this knowledge. Maybe his plan was just to kill him afterwards, like all the villains in those muggle films, who explain their evil plan to the hero before trying to destroy them. Except Harry had seemingly no way to escape, he was no James Bond. Sure, he'd survived some very dangerous events, but it was nothing like that. To begin with, he had his wand, last times. And help, in some way or another. Or a portkey. He couldn't see why Voldemort would tell him everything and then free him. That made no sense.

If he were to share his thoughts, Harry would say this was now the moment where he was about to - finally - die. But nobody invited him to talk, so he remained silent. He had no wand, did not know where exactly he was, nor when. He had rarely felt more pointless.

A Death Eater whose name he didn't remember - Mulciber maybe? - came to his room. Harry followed him through the house, down some stairs. It was a big house, as he'd seen with Voldemort, maybe what they call a manor. But he had not seen anyone else than Voldemort and this man. Maybe it was maybe-Mulciber's manor?

'Is this your house?' he tried, as they turned in another corridor.  
The man barely gave him a look. He pushed him in the back. 'We're nearly there, don't worry about small talk boy.'

At least he'd tried.

They entered a room. There was a table, and that's all he could see in it. Before he could think of anything, such as 'What the **** is going to happen to me here?', he was pushed again, and put on the table. Why bother fighting? His last day on Earth, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the hero of the magical world - he was sure to be about to die, fifteen years later - he resigned. He retired. The magical world would need another hero. Good luck to them. Defenceless, he couldn't do anything. The man tied him to the table, magically. Harry tried to move, just to see how strong the ties were. They were strong enough. He lied down. Nothing to say, nothing to do. His thoughts, that's all he had now. He thought of his friends. Of the Weasleys. Molly, she would be sad. He doubted Petunia would shed the smallest tear for him, but Molly? That pained him. Then he thought, maybe he'd finally join his parents. A bit early, but a slightly comforting thought. He would have liked to know what had happened to his friends. Maybe Voldemort would deign tell him, at the last minute?

Speaking of whom, the snakelike face entered the room. As expected, he talked. It wasn't going to be a simple 'Avada Kedavra' and everything is over, of course.

"Harry Potter. This name will not be yours much longer! You didn't see that coming, obviously. How could you? But you must have been wondering why I told you... everything I have told you this last week. In time, you will see. I would like to explain further, but we would be late. The moon is rising, the magic is getting powerful, it is now the best time to cast a spell, and use some potion. In short, the best time to perform a magical ritual. You will not die Harry Potter, but soon you won't be the same person anymore. I will not lie like so many nurses - it might hurt. It might even hurt a lot. I do not control this, you understand. Prepare to suffer Harry Potter, in your last hours."


	2. Isobel Riddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought lockdown would be ideal to write, but I was very wrong lmao. Oh also I nearly lost all the files in which I had all my notes for this fanfiction, which ruined me. But hey, I got here! Thanks for believing in this fanfiction :3

A feeble of voice. Quiet, at first, becoming more and more audible as the voice spoke. Harry was waking up. Who did this voice belong to? He was still not awake enough for that. He was in a bed, comfortable, safe. Or was he? His last memories came back to him. Voldemort. The Death Eaters. The potion and the incantations. He jolted awake. Arms went near him, and the voice said "Oh wow, you're awake! Wait, stay there, relax!". 

Harry recognised the hospital wing. He was back at Hogwarts. And the voice was Ron's. He blinked, and looked at his friend. His best friend! Harry smiled. 

"Okay, you good?"

He took a second to feel his body, moving a bit, but nothing hurt.

"Yeah, hun-" he paused to cough, his throat felt weird, and his voice was not right. "Hungry."  
"Alright, er, I'm not sure I can give you anything. Just wait two sec!" Ron went to look out, probably for Pomfrey Harry guessed. Except he did not disappear long, and went back quickly, walking backward with Madam Pomfrey already coming.

"There you are, finally woken up! Let's see!" She took out her wand and cast some spells. Harry did not know what she was looking for, but she looked happy enough. "You" she said pointing to Ron. "Go tell professor Dumbledore."

Ron opened his mouth but closed it just as quickly. He shrugged and waged goodbye before leaving.

"He is probably already aware anyway" Pomfrey muttered going away.  
"Er, may I have something to eat, and some water, please? I don't know when my last meal was but I'm kind of hungry."  
"Hmm!"

Harry waited a short time for her to return. It was long enough for him to realise he didn't have his glasses, and yet he could see. Did they finally think to get his vision right thanks to magic? Why do it now, why not in his first year? They should do it to everybody if they could. To see right at anytime, without needing any item, was a gift! To think most people just lived this way. People do not realise their luck most of the time, really. 

He was having soup when Dumbledore appeared. 

"Good afternoon, miss Riddle."

Harry had opened his mouth to say hello, ready to ask many things: how long he'd missed, how he'd come back to Hogwarts, what had happened to his vision, whether he knew what was wrong with his voice. This greeting stopped all these questions at once.

"Excuse me? Professor?"  
"Yes?"  
"What- What do you mean by "miss" and-and- "Riddle"? It's me, Harry."

It was not very difficult to make links and find explanations, but these explanations could not be real. Harry refused to believe it. Him? A girl? What had happened to him? Could anyone bother to explain anything? And "Riddle"? That was Voldemort's name, but why by Merlin would Harry be wearing this name? What was Voldemort's plan? And why was Dumbledore keeping the secret? Did Ron know? Harry looked at Dumbledore hoping for an answer, but instead Dumbledore wasn't saying anything. Something nearly imperceptible changed on Dumbledore's face. Harry felt something. He couldn't point it really, but he felt something, and that something was not nice. He felt uneasy. Dumbledore was looking right in his eyes. Harry didn't have anything to hide, so he was looking back, for a few seconds. He was really uneasy. He looked down, short of breath. What was that?

"Pompom, would you allow this young person to leave the bed? I would rather talk with this young person in my office."

That repetition alarmed Harry, but he kept silent. He wanted to shout how he was right there, and it was him, and please believe him. But he remained silent. The nurse gave her approval, with the condition that her patient came back once they would be done, and Harry followed Dumbledore to his office.

Soon they got to the gargoyle, Dumbledore gave the password and on they went. It was all silent. The walk had passed without a word being uttered. Harry felt more and more uneasy with every second passing by. Finally he sat at the desk, on Dumbledore's invitation.

"What happened, Harry?" the headmaster asked after having offered a sweet, which Harry had politely refused.  
"Voldemort kidnapped me, but you know that, right? I saw Ron, so he must have told you. Is Hermione alright? I don't know what happened to her." No answer came, so he resumed. "He kept me a prisoner in a sort of manor, and he told me loads about his army. I- I don't remember everything though. And then the last thing I remember, they made me go in a dark room, drink a potion, and there were spells. I don't know what they did, and I didn't have my wand. I don't know." 

Dumbledore joined his hands. He was looking at Harry. Harry, waited. He had many questions, but none came out. A thought was making its way in his mind, a thought he tried to ignore, but a thought he was starting to trust against his will. Dumbledore didn't believe him, and he did not trust "Miss Riddle".

"Mr Weasley found you in Hogsmeade a month ago. You were in a coma. There was only this with you." He gave Harry a box. "You may open it" he answered the silent question. "There is a paper, with what we assumed was your name, and a wand, probably yours."

The box was very simple, long enough to contain a wand, and that was it. Harry opened it to see as expected a piece of paper. It read "Isobel Circe Riddle". Under it was a wand. Not his wand, though.

"This is not my wand, professor."  
"We will see that later. Do you remember something else, something you might have forgotten to say?"

Again, Dumbledore looked right in his eyes. Again, Harry did not feel at ease with this piercing look. Again, he ended up looking away. The box was very simple, quite boring, but he'd rather look at it a whole month than in Dumbledore's eyes one more second.

"I could go in more details, I guess, but that's pretty much it. I was locked in a bedroom with only books, no window. He told me about the Death Eaters, but I don't remember much of that. Sorry. I didn't think I'd get out to tell you, actually. And then, the last evening, there was someone else, and he told me I would not die, but that Harry Potter would not be my name anymore, and that's it."  
"That's it?"  
"Well, there was some incantation, and they made me drink a potion, and it hurt. I can't tell you anything else about the spell or the potion. Then I blacked out and woke up in the hospital wing. That's it."

Dumbledore remained silent for a little while. Harry kept avoiding his eyes. Something felt wrong. He had been scared of Dumbledore in the past, but he'd always trusted him, in the end. Except now, this feeling in his eyes... Dumbledore seemed the same as ever, mysterious, knowing more than everyone else, but Harry couldn't trust him as much as he used to. Something was off.

"Alright." he said, finally. "While you were asleep, your wand has been inspected. There is nothing wrong with it."  
"But-"  
"I understand it is not your wand, but wherever your wand is, we cannot get it back, now. Would you just try this one? If it doesn't fit, someone will go with you to Ollivander's."

That made sense. Harry nodded and took the wand. The feeling was unusual, but not disagreeable. He moved it, murmuring "Lumos", and the end of the wand cast a light. He turned it off, with a sad smile.

"It's working."  
"Very well! You may keep it then! We will provide you with new clothes, and you will get school furnitures." He was brushing his beard calmly, thinking about something Harry couldn't guess. Then Dumbledore looked back right at him, and Harry looked away, before he could think about it. "There is one last thing to discuss before I bring you back to Madam Pomfrey."  
"What is it, professor?" asked Harry, understanding that was what Dumbledore was waiting for.  
"I cannot allow you to tell your friends."  
"Excuse me?!"  
"In two days, you will be sorted out in one house by the Sorting Hat. It will decide which house you will join for the rest of the year. And you are not to tell your friends who you are. As far as they are concerned, you are Isobel Circe Riddle, until we know more about what happened to you."

Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He had been so happy to see his best friend again, only to be told he would be a stranger to him now. And to his other best friend, and everyone else. Great! Fantastic! But Dumbledore knew what he was doing, surely. 

"Do you understand, Harry?"  
"Yes, sir." he answered, resigned.  
"Good."

And with this word ended the conversation. Dumbledore escorted Harry back to the hospital wing. Before the professor could leave, Harry asked about Hermione. She was doing fine, and hadn't been hurt too much during the attack. Knowing this, Harry went back to his bed with a light smile.

Two days later, on a Monday evening, Harry dressed up in his new clothes. In Isobel's clothes. In less than an hour, he would go to the Great Hall, sit on the stool, and have the Sorting Hat on his head for the third time. He had had time to think about this, and had come to the conclusion that hiding his real identity would be easier if he wasn't in Gryffindor. Of course, convincing the Sorting Hat that his place was in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw would not be an easy task, but he had managed to escape Slytherin last time; hadn't he?

Professor McGonagall guided him to the Great Hall, as if he didn't know the way. As if he really were Isobel Riddle, a girl who had never been to Hogwarts before. Other students were already sat, waiting for the food to appear. She didn't give away any sign that she knew Harry was really Harry. Did she know? Dumbledore had talked about his friends, but not the teachers. He wouldn't hide that from them, though. Would he? Professor Dumbledore gave a little talk about the new student that Isobel was, and then Harry-Isobel entered the Great Hall. Ron smiled at Isobel, and Harry smiled back. He looked for Hermione too, but she didn't smile as much, it was more of a polite smile. Harry recognised her look for what it was -she did not trust Isobel Riddle. It hurt to see this look from his best friend, but of course she did not know. It was not really directed to him, right? Finally, he sat on the stool, and the Sorting Hat was put on his head.

"Miss Riddle, eh? You might fool them all, but not me, Harry Potter!"  
"Glad to know someone recognises me!" Harry thought, smiling.  
"Of course I do! Well, your house. So, not Gryffindor again, sure of that? Very well then-"  
"Please not Sly-"  
"SLYTHERIN"  
"F-"  
"Believe me, any other house would've been a waste for you. You'll thank me later."

Professor McGonagall took the hat back and Harry sighed. He looked at Slytherin's table, and then got up because he did not want his former Head of House to grow too impatient. She could take the stool away and go sit down. He did not have to run to Slytherin's table, and he did not. But he did go. Against all his will. When he was about to sit at the end of the table, Malfoy stood up and smiled at him. At her. Malfoy smiled at Riddle. It was a weird sight to hold, Harry thought, Malfoy's smile directed toward him. Oh, it wasn't a so friendly smile, more like a politician smile, but it was quite different to what he was used to. Knowing his life in Slytherin would be easier if he had Draco on his side, he walked to Malfoy, and shook the hand offered.

"Welcome in Slytherin Riddle! I am Draco Malfoy, your Prefect, and I'm in Fifth year too. Please, sit with us." 

Harry pulled out his best fake smile, one of those he had to make for the Dursleys, and sat next to Malfoy. The rest of the evening happened, somehow, but you wouldn't want to count on Harry to tell you how. When he lied down in his new bed, in a dormitory under the lake, trying to fall asleep, it was as if he'd only blinked. He had shaken Malfoy's hand, sat down, and then he was in his new dorm, or rather Isobel's. It was very dark, and green. No window to look at the park through. The only window looked onto the lake, and sometimes one could catch a sight of a merfolk or another of the creatures inhabiting the Dark Lake. No way Hedwig would find her way to him there. 

Tomorrow he would have to go back to class, as if nothing had happened. As Isobel Riddle. How lost would he be, after missing two months? Maybe he would not be that lost, compared to usual. It would work. He had never been the best student, but he'd never been the worst either. Except this time he wouldn't have Hermione's help to catch on. It was weird to realise Ron was the one to be friendly. Ron who was the first one to say a Slytherin was the worst, and he'd trusted a girl called Riddle? Like Voldemort? The worst of all? Maybe now that he'd been sorted in the Slytherin house, Ron would not trust him anymore. Well, Isobel had been sorted in Slytherin, it was Isobel Ron would not trust anymore. Ron would always trust Harry, if only he knew Harry was right there... Harry turned over in his bed. It would probably be easier to lie about his real identity if Ron did not talk to him-Isobel after all.


End file.
